roses are red, violets are blue

Dear Art,

Today is family day. Yesterday was Valentines day. As I sat at a still and quiet 47, fluffy thoughts of love, affection and family were far from my mind. Facing Dennis Lin's no. 1-60, it was death I was thinking about, not love. As I day dream of an evening filled with cards, roses, and a home cooked dinner, staring at me is a dead tree. However much this installation wows me, and however much I enjoy it, I can not escape the feeling of being in a space that resembles a slaughterhouse – slabs of maple hanging like a fresh kill in a fading winter light.

With this in my rather morbid mind, I think back to the news of Alexander McQueen's death this week. For me, his ability to blur that fine and delicate line between art and fashion has been a powerful influence in my own struggle to successfully blend these two passions. As a part of his 1999 spring/summer collection, McQueen combined movement and mark-making with the human body, all of which are major interests of my own.

Being at 47, feeling an increasing eerie sense of death creep through my abattoir, I found time and peace within the space. Yesterday was Valentines day and yes, there was no tacky love themed show this weekend here at 47 (yet I'm sure if you wanted that you wouldn't have far to go in this city). So rather than conforming to another hallmark holiday, I instead opted to take a moment to reflect and rediscover what it is that makes me love art.

Dear Art,

I love you

Happy (belated) Valentines

Megan x

For a better look at McQueen's Spring/Summer Collection 1999, please click on the link below (about 37 seconds in).

Thank you youtube :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=reK0A1XIjKA

If a tree falls in the gallery

Last Friday afternoon as final prep occurred for n° 1-60 I was given the task of dusting each of the sixty wooden slices. While the roar of the vacuum consumed the space I spent a good hour contemplating each knot.

Later overhead at the opening, a woman states that she saw this installation as a process of renewal, transitioning from old to new and apparently giving the tree new life. For some seeing Tree as Art Object immediately lends itself to such 'green' ideas, an obvious reminder of how sacred nature should be considered. But as lively as the party got, I personally was unable to shake the darker shadows out of my perspective. Under the dim the piece as a whole evoked a skeletal, even bodily feel. As light shone through each slab, rib-like shadows appeared on the wall and a spine fell to the floor. Tree Memorial, was my take, life and death of the Maple.
There is no hint of recycling or re-purposing. Dennis presents it as it is, both polishing and disconnecting the original form. The tree itself provides its own natural documentation – the rings, which Dennis gives the viewer privy to through his meticulous cataloguing. The tree becomes a presence in the room, its felled position forcing you to imagine its past height and stature.

A week later the early evening light seeps into the gallery, lifting my initial somber view of the piece. n° 1-60 now hangs silently at the end of the day. As voices echo outside down Milkyway, passerbys having no idea that a few feet away a massive Maple rests.

Photo courtesy of Derek Flack

207.5

Dear Art

I am an intern at 47.

I am an artist.

I've lived in Toronto for 207.5 days.

Dear Art,

Who are you?

MBL x

Wish You Were Here

February begins with a ritual spring forecast from Wiarton Willie, alongside a Lunar launch, and equally as sacred, the beginning of a new Blog. Occurring almost simultaneously as the yearly rodent prediction and the gallery's new calendar, the creation of Dear Art might too reveal the future for us Interns of 47.
So it is here on Milky Way, amidst the morning-after debris of the year opener n° 1-60, that a now silent space gives home to the voice of the Interns.

Dear Art,
We'll talk soon!

Luv,
ET

Lunar Launch New Years Party!